Vi Agra Falls

by Mary Daheim

“Dessert?”

  “Ice cream,” Judith said. “It’s too hot to bake.”

  “Not in the cold storage box where I live. It can’t be over fifty degrees.”

  At that moment, Phyliss appeared from the back stairs. “What’s going on with those people who got hauled off to the hospital? Are they coming back, or did they go to meet Jesus?”

  “I’m not sure,” Judith answered, noticing that Phyliss had a white-and-brown box in her hand. “They’re still in the hospital. Just make sure the room is tidy. What are you holding?”

  “A couple of chocolates are in this box, and they’re half melted in this ungodly heat,” Phyliss replied. “Do I toss them or what?”

  Gertrude squirmed around to look at the cleaning woman, who was standing behind the wheelchair. “Let’s see those!” she barked.

  Phyliss dropped the box in Gertrude’s lap. “You can have ’em,” she said, heading for the basement. “I’ve got laundry to put in the dryer.”

  “I told you so!” Gertrude shouted. “This is my candy! Granny Goodness, my favorite! How come that greedy pig didn’t eat all of them?”

  Judith stared at the box her mother had opened. “Because she didn’t eat any of them. These belonged to the guests who got sick.”

  “Serves them right,” Gertrude declared. “Melted, my foot! Soft, maybe, but stick these last two in the icebox and they’ll be fine.” She replaced the lid and shoved the chocolates at Judith.

  “I’m not sure anybody should eat them,” Judith murmured.

  “What’s that? I’m deaf, you know.”

  “They may be poisoned,” Judith said, putting the candy box into a plastic garbage liner bag.

  Gertrude was aghast. “You think Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince are trying to kill me?” She waved an impatient hand. “Vance has got a mouth on her and doesn’t know when to keep it shut, but she’s good-hearted. You’re talking through your hat!”

  “No, Mother,” Judith said defiantly, “I am not accusing Auntie Vance of anything. If these are the chocolates that she and Uncle Vince gave you, someone stole the box from your apartment and added poison to the chocolates. I think that’s why Mr. and Mrs. Buss got sick.”

  Gertrude’s wrinkled face was bewildered. “Who’d be dumb enough to ruin Granny Goodness chocolates? That takes a lot of gall. Granny Goodness makes the best ever.”

  Judith ignored her mother’s dismissal of attempted murder. She realized that Gertrude, like many elderly people, lived in a constantly shrinking world as age and infirmity robbed her of mobility and control over even life’s minor events. “I’ll buy you a box of Granny Goodness the next time I go by their store at the bottom of the hill,” Judith said. “Don’t even think of accusing Auntie Vance of anything.”

  “Poisoning people doesn’t sound like Vance,” Gertrude muttered. “She’d just bash somebody in the head if they got her riled up.”

  Judith put the chocolate box in a drawer under the counter. “You haven’t found your ring,” she said matter-of-factly. “Whoever stole the ring probably took the candy. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me, Vivian or Terri swiped both.”

  “I told you, Vi wouldn’t steal from me,” Gertrude replied, indignant.

  “Then it was her daughter,” Judith said.

  “She seemed okay,” Gertrude insisted. “Is she really a stripper?”

  “She was at one time, according to Caitlin.” Judith buttered bread for Gertrude’s sandwich. “Did she use the bathroom?”

  “I don’t remember,” Gertrude said.

  “If she did,” Judith pointed out, “she could’ve gone into your bedroom and taken both the ring and the candy.”

  “Sounds goofy to me. Why? She didn’t know what was in there.”

  “True.” Pausing while she added a bit of mustard to the ham and cheese, Judith tried to figure out why Terri had cased Gertrude’s bedroom. “The only thing I can think of is that she was looking for something valuable to steal. Vivian may be rich, but that doesn’t mean she’s handing out hundred-dollar bills to her daughter. I understand that Terri was always a daddy’s girl. Johnny Agra actually raised her.”

  “Johnny Agra?” Gertrude looked curious. “Wasn’t he Al’s chum?”

  “Yes,” Judith said. “They were both in the same business.”

  “Monkey business,” Gertrude remarked. “Your father and I never approved of what Al was doing in the back of the restaurant. It’s a wonder he didn’t end up in the bay wearing cement shoes.”

  “Uncle Al knew whose palms to grease,” Judith pointed out. “Or so I figured when I got older.”

  “Oh, you bet he did,” Gertrude agreed. “Especially whoever was sheriff at the time. Al would get dressed up like a cowboy and ride a horse in parades as part of the posse. At least one of those sheriffs went to jail.” The old lady sighed. “Oh, well. Al’s a decent sort, always fun. I never met Johnny. Just as well. He left town and went to Hollywood and married that movie actress. I can imagine how that turned—”

  “What?” Judith dropped one of the cherries she’d been putting on her mother’s plate. “Who told you that?”

  Gertrude frowned. “Vi? I think she mentioned it way back when I told her I’d sold my life story to the movies. What a bunch of guff that was after those Hollywood nitwits got done with it! I should’ve sued.”

  “You were well paid,” Judith reminded her mother, but didn’t want to get sidetracked discussing how little of the film paralleled Gertrude’s life. “So Johnny married an actress? Are you sure?”

  “I only know what Vi told me.”

  “Do you remember her name?”

  Gertrude shook her head. “I don’t know if I ever heard it. If I did, she wasn’t anybody famous, like Joan Crawford or Greta Garbo.”

  “So Vivian told you this about…” Judith calculated Herself’s comings and goings in her head. “At least three or four years ago?”

  “More than that,” Gertrude said. “It was around the time she bought the Goodrich house. Christmas, maybe.”

  Vivian had flown in from her Florida condo that year, dropping her bombshell during the family Christmas gathering. The announcement of her imminent and apparently permanent return hadn’t quite ruined the spirit of the season, but it had definitely dropped some big rocks in Judith’s usually deep well of charity.

  “Goodness,” Judith murmured, “that was almost ten years ago. Had Johnny just moved to California?”

  Gertrude shook her head. “No. I think he’d been there a long time. Funny,” she went on, fingering her chin, “I can’t remember some particular things very well, but I can bring back how people acted when they were talking. The way Vi said it sounded as if she’d lost track of him and didn’t care. If you know what I mean.”

  Judith smiled and nodded. “I do. It would be typical.” She put some potato chips on Gertrude’s plate. “Do you want to eat in here?”

  “Why not?” Gertrude grimaced. “It’s a change of pace. Just keep that religious goofball away from me.”

  Judith moved one of the chairs away from the table so that Gertrude could maneuver closer. “Want to play detective?” she asked, sitting down across from her mother.

  The old lady looked suspicious. “What do you mean?”

  “This murder,” Judith said. “You could help both Vivian and me.”

  “How?” Gertrude asked, still wary.

  “Well…” Judith searched for the right words to goad her mother into action. “Find out that actress’s name.”

  Gertrude swallowed a bite of sandwich before responding. “Why?”

  “I thought you liked Vivian,” Judith said, feigning puzzlement. “You met her daughter. That is, her other daughter, Terri, who’s also Johnny Agra’s daughter. Not Caitlin. You like Caitlin, don’t you?”

  Gertrude bristled. “She hasn’t come to see me.”

  “She hasn’t had time, but she really wants to see you.” A small fib wasn’t amiss, Judith thought. “Caitlin’s busy
helping Vivian. Terri did pay you a call. That was very sweet of her. Wouldn’t you like to know what happened to her father after he married the actress? Was she a kind stepmother? You’ve heard those horror stories about Hollywood mothers and stepmothers.” Sadly, Judith shook her head. “Gruesome.”

  “That’s so.” Gertrude gazed off into space. “Vi should’ve stepped in,” she finally said. “Mothers and daughters have to stick together. Though one time she told me boys were easier to raise than girls. I wouldn’t know. Not,” she added with a baleful glance at Judith, “that you were any picnic. Maybe Vi’s right. She treats her boys pretty good. They were a big help being waiters at the party. Caitlin didn’t show up for it, and poor Terri got stuck in the basement.”

  “Yes. Poor Terri.” Judith feigned sympathy. “That’s why you should help her. I suspect her life hasn’t been happy.”

  “So what should I do?” Gertrude inquired.

  “Ask Vivian to come see you,” Judith said. “Tell her you want to…show her something.”

  Gertrude spat out a cherry pit. “Like what? My almost-empty candy box?”

  Judith was scraping her brain for a reason that would pique Herself’s interest. “Give her a copy of the DVD version of your movie.”

  Gertrude snorted. “My movie? That wasn’t me. When did I ever take off all my clothes and do the Black Bottom on a tugboat?”

  “For once and for all, we know Dirty Gerty wasn’t about your real life,” Judith explained reasonably, “but it’s the kind of…” She paused, avoiding the word raunchy. “It’s the kind of mischievous movie Vivian would enjoy. You know, a spunky heroine who’s willing to take risks, even if they seem a bit…outlandish.” She handed her mother the phone. “Tell Vivian you have something for her. A titillating surprise.”

  “Titillating? Don’t use that kind of language,” Gertrude admonished. “What’s wrong with ‘bosom’?”

  “That’s not what…Skip it.” She took the phone from Gertrude and dialed Herself’s number. “Just say it’s naughty but nice.”

  Scowling at Judith, Gertrude grasped the receiver. “Vi?” The old lady paused. “You’re addled? Who isn’t?” She paused again. “Well, that’s different. Yes, let me talk to Vivian.” Gertrude put a hand over the mouthpiece. “Somebody called Addledita. What kind of a name is that? Why don’t parents name their kids Maude or Joan or Hazel anymore?”

  Judith shrugged. It wasn’t the right time to explain Hispanic name diminutives.

  “Vi?” Gertrude said. “How about stopping by this afternoon? I’ve got a present for you, kind of bawdy, but you’ll like it. Fact is, I should’ve given it to you a long time ago.”

  Judith watched her mother’s reaction, the scowl giving way to something akin to pleasure. “Swell. See you in half an hour.” Gertrude clicked off and shoved the phone at Judith. “There. I did your dirty work with Dirty Gerty. Come to think of it, Vi might get a kick out of it.”

  Judith had gone to the fridge to get a quart of Razzle-Dazzle Raspberry ice cream. “While you eat dessert, I’ll get one of the DVDs the producer sent you. They’re in the basement.”

  “They should’ve been buried in the backyard,” Gertrude muttered. “Don’t be stingy with that ice cream, Toots.”

  “I won’t,” Judith promised, dishing three big spoonfuls into a bowl. “Okay, here’s what you do. You give her the DVD, start talking about movies, and ask her the name of the actress Johnny married. Got it?”

  “I guess so,” Gertrude muttered as Judith set the ice cream on the table. “Do they call them BVDs because everybody’s running around in their underwear? Or even less than that?”

  “It’s DVD,” Judith said, “which stands for Digital Video Disc. Or maybe it’s Digital Versatile Disc. Something like that, anyway.”

  “Too much crazy stuff these days,” Gertrude grumbled, and dug into her ice cream.

  By one o’clock, Renie still hadn’t come back. Judith figured her cousin was probably being held prisoner by Aunt Deb. Caitlin returned a few minutes later, looking exasperated.

  “The meeting with Mandrake Stokes was a fiasco,” she declared. “He had all sorts of questions about the ranch that I couldn’t answer. I guess he’s legit, but I can’t help him or my mother, who, by the way, wasn’t home when I stopped by.” She put her shoulder bag down on the credenza in the entry hall. “Adelita thought Mom was here. Is she?”

  “Maybe,” Judith replied. “She was supposed to call on my mother. Strangely enough, they seem to like each other.”

  “I’ve always wondered about that,” Caitlin said. “Do you think their bond is a way of annoying you?”

  “Probably,” Judith said. “I figure that’s part of it. Why can’t Billy answer Mr. Stokes’s questions? The ranch belonged to his father.”

  “I gather Billy hasn’t spent much time at the ranch in the past ten years,” Caitlin said. “More, maybe. Once he got out of baseball, he didn’t hang around the old homestead. From what I can gather, he moved to Cancún in Mexico and was a beach bum. That’s how he met Adelita. She wanted to come to the United States. Apparently, she had some family issues. Too overbearing or something, and she wanted to get out from under their strict surveillance. It’s like pulling teeth to get anything straight out of Mom. Anyway, I think Adelita’s affair with Billy began in Cancún, so when he heard his dad was ailing, the two of them went to Florida, where Mr. Buss was taking in the sea air. Adelita came as a tourist and got Billy to sponsor her for a longer stay. And that’s how Billy met Mom.”

  Judith was puzzled. “I thought he met her through Potsy.”

  Caitlin shook her head. “It was the other way around. Potsy was confined to a wheelchair. Billy wheeled him down to the beach where Mom was suntanning.”

  “I see.”

  Caitlin’s green eyes danced with the same gold flecks inherited from her father. “I’m sure you do. Whatever was going on between Mom and Billy up to that point was out the window when she realized that Potsy was the one holding the purse strings.”

  Judith nodded. “Did your half-sister, Terri, ever mention who her father married after he and your mother divorced?”

  Caitlin made a face. “No. Mom hardly ever mentioned him. Neither did Terri. She wasn’t around much when I was a kid. The last time I saw Terri was when I was in my teens, and she’d just broken up with a guy she’d been living with in San Francisco.”

  “I’d like to talk to her,” Judith said. “Your mom has an address or phone number, right?”

  “I suppose so,” Caitlin replied, picking up her shoulder bag. “Do you mind if I make myself a sandwich?”

  “Go ahead. There’s plenty of fixings in the fridge.”

  Caitlin went out to the kitchen. Judith checked her guest registry to see who would be coming to Hillside Manor over the weekend. She was making mental notes when Adelita appeared at the open front door.

  “Mrs. Flynn? May I come in?” the young woman asked.

  “Sure,” Judith said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for Mrs. Buss. Is she here?”

  “If she is, she’s in my mother’s apartment out back. Go down the driveway or through the kitchen to the back door.”

  “Thank you.” Adelita headed for the dining room and the kitchen, but reappeared as Judith brought in the mail from the front porch.

  “I go the other way,” she murmured, and left the house.

  Judith went to the porch to see if Adelita was, in fact, heading for the toolshed. Sure enough, the young woman had reached the driveway and was walking briskly toward the backyard. Returning inside, Judith went out to the kitchen.

  “Is there a reason Adelita is avoiding you?” she asked Caitlin, who was sitting at the table eating a salami and cheese sandwich.

  Caitlin shrugged. “I saw her peek in here over those swinging half-doors. She turned around and disappeared.”

  “Why did she do that?”

  “Because I know about her and Billy.”
/>   Judith sat down at the table. “You mean they’re still having an affair?”

  Caitlin nodded. “That’s why Mom and Billy have separate bedrooms.”

  “Does your mother know?”

  “Probably.” Caitlin stared glumly at the glass of milk next to her plate. “Maybe it’s one of those ménage à trois situations. Mom likes her little sexual adventures.” She looked up, her gaze fixed on Judith. “Do you know how often I’ve wished you’d been my real mother? Or is that too awful to even think, let alone say out loud?”

  Judith was touched, if not flattered. “I never thought about it. I mean, I never knew you felt that way.” Her smile was bittersweet. “Frankly, I haven’t been a very attentive stepmother. Life on this side of the world has kept me too busy.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Caitlin asserted. “By the time you and my father got married, I was already living abroad. You never knew me until I was an adult.”

  “That’s true,” Judith conceded, “but I could have written or called or even emailed more often. On the other hand, I didn’t want to overstep—” She stopped as the sound of loud, angry voices erupted from the backyard. “What’s that?” she said, getting up.

  “Let me look,” Caitlin offered. “It sounds like Mom.”

  She hurried to the back porch, with Judith close behind. Vivian, Adelita, and a middle-aged woman were engaged in a shouting match. All of them were gesturing wildly. Judith started to go down the steps, but Caitlin put out a hand to stop her.

  “Let them sort it out,” she urged grimly. “You wanted to know where you could find Terri. There she is, in your own backyard.”

  19

  From snatches of furious insults, the battle seemed to be waged mainly between mother and daughter. Adelita had backed off a few paces and was keeping her mouth shut. Beyond the volatile little group, Judith could see Gertrude inching her way out of the toolshed.

  The woman Caitlin had identified as Terri was shaking a fist at Vivian. “You don’t want me! You never cared about me! Don’t think you can buy me off!”

  Herself took a menacing step closer to Terri. “I can buy and sell you a hundred times over! You’ve sold yourself often enough!”